


A Group of CRROs Is Called A Murder

by Boo62



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha Castiel, Alpha Sam, Angst, CRRO, F/F, F/M, M/M, Omega Dean, Supernatural AU - Freeform, This could go places, a/b/o dynamics, and of course dean and castiel, but places, eventually, i guess, mental hosptial/prison vibe, not college, rampant gay sex, some angst but also lots of laughter, this will be a lot of ruby and dean playing off each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boo62/pseuds/Boo62
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Centre for the Rehabilitation and Rehoming of Omegas was commonly called CRRO.  It was where bad Omegas went when they didn't know how to behave. In hindsight, Dean thought it was a miracle he hadn't ended up there sooner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ****Semi Hiatus, will hopefully update more often in the new year, thanks for your patience!*****
> 
> A/B/O is not something I ever thought I would write, but this story won't get out of my head. I hope you like this little introductory chapter I've got here- and let me know if you want me to keep going!

It was called the Centre for Rehabilitation and Rehoming of Omegas. 

It wasn't that large a building. Omegas were rare, particularly away from the big cities. The New York branch saw over a hundred omegas pass through its doors each month. In this little pocket of Texas, the Centre had half that number, and it’s building was a quarter of the size. 

It was just outside the middle of town, three levels of windows set back from the street. The front gate had spiked metal fencing and a slot to swipe an access card. Security guards with little headsets and dark patches on their shirts gave judgemental stares at anyone who approached the gates.

The front desk was manned 24 hours a day by a smiling beta. Anyone who came through saw that smile, and she would press a little button on her desk to summon the appropriate person to meet them. In between impossibly chipper greetings, she reapplied lip gloss. 

You couldn't go through the doors without an escort.

The corridors were long and industrial, painted a colour that was probably called Sky Blue but brought to mind Fresh Bruise instead- literally painfully familiar to most of the inhabitants.

Doors had little glass panels on the front, and labels indicating what the room was used for. On the first floor, it seemed they mostly said ‘Consultation Room’ and ‘Visiting Room 1’. If you went up a floor- using an access card to get past raised eyebrows inside little security stations- the rooms were labelled things like ‘The Classroom’ and ‘The Serenity Space’. 

Every Centre in the country had these rooms, and it seemed everywhere everyone was just as confused as to what a ‘Serenity Room’ actually was.

On the top floor, things were a little different. There were no windows in the doors, and no names. Each door was numbered, and next to each was a legal sized metal box attached to the wall. They had a small screen on the front, which displayed a name and a series of numbers. If the appropriate card was swiped, a set of options would appear, including the option to unlock the door, and the access to the details of the Omega within. 

Inside, the rooms on this floor were the epitome of the word utilitarian. Single beds, sheets tucked tight. Sink, water cup, toothbrush placed just so. If someone lived in the rooms, it was hard to tell.

The Centre staff outnumbered the inhabitants. All were neatly groomed, with ready smiles. Security wore dark green; other staff wore light green scrubs. The Professionals wore white coats and tight smiles. All the staff were betas or Alphas. No omega would work there- or be allowed to work there.

The Centre for the Rehabilitation and Rehoming of Omegas was where omegas were sent when they ran away. It was where they were sent when they punched an Alpha who tried to hurt them. It was where uncontrollable omegas went, the ones who were deemed unsafe to be out in the world. The Centre for the Rehabilitation and Rehoming of Omegas was commonly called CRRO.

CRRO was given a certain amount of Government funding, and prided itself on high standards and fast turnover of clean, obedient Omegas. 

Dean Winchester hated it from the moment he walked inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets admitted to CRRO, after a false start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the response to the first chapter! Another shortish one for you here- enter Sam! Hope you enjoy.

Dean had been allowed to call Sam.

It was his first experience of CRRO “allowing” him to do something, and he wasn’t even in the main building yet, just the little cabin thingy by the gate.

 He’d been handed a phone by a fat alpha who carried what looked kind of like a really short crutch. Dean had decided this wasn’t the time to enquire what it’s purpose was.

The alpha in dark green hadn’t left the room, hadn’t seen fit to grant Dean some privacy. As if it wasn’t already incredibly awkward to explain to his little brother that he had been taken into custody by an organisation that rehabilitated omegas, he now had to do it with an audience.

Which also meant he had to phrase “Sam get me the hell out of here” in a way that wouldn’t get his ass handed to him.

Sam hadn’t been calm or collected. Sam had been furious.

_“Dean, no, wait, why are you even in Texas?  Where’s the car? How did you get there?”_

“ Sam lemme speak, I haven’t got long”

_“ Dean! CRRO? That’s not ok! What the fuck even happened?”_

“ Sam, shut up and listen, alright?”

_“…Dean.  I’m sorry, it’s just…those places aren’t good news. They’ll chew you up, god, they’ll give you to some rightwing alpha!”_

“ Sammy, look, I know all this, alright? Just…come help me. Get me out of here, do your lawyer thingy, fuck you can sign me over to one of your hippy alpha buddies if you have to. “

_“ Dean, this isn’t something to joke about! I’ll be there in 3 days…I’ll just have to miss the…fuck…ok, 3 days, I’ll be there.”_

When they had hung up, Dean had felt marginally better. Sam was good at crap like this. Having a lawyer in the family- a big bad alpha lawyer, no less- was helpful when you got yourself into bad situations. Though this hadn’t been Dean’s fault, not really. But he doubted he’d ever been in bigger shit.

The phone was taken from him, the security alpha grimacing Dean- though he wasn’t sure what for. Possibly his general look and attitude. After all, Dean wasn’t your omega stereotype. He was too big, too loud, he swore and ate burgers and didn’t shrink away from a fight.

People didn’t pick him out as an omega until they had scented him.  Occasionally this worked in his favour. More often, betas got pissy that they’d been hustled by an omega, and Alphas seemed to take Deans lack of omega characteristics as a personal affront.

Like the one in the CRRO inhabitant arrival room. The guy stood behind a short counter- presumably the guy had box or something because there was no way he was tall enough to see over that without help- holding a tablet computer and chewing on a lollipop stick. He seemed to be in charge of issuing uniforms, judging by the stacks of white coloured scrubs on the shelves behind him.   

He sized Dean up, scented the air and raised an eyebrow that Dean was 99% sure had been plucked, before informing Dean’s minder that “the omega” had to shower before being admitted.

Last Dean had checked, his ears worked, so he headed toward the shower stall at the end of the room.

And that was when he first discovered the purpose of that crutch thing the security guy carried.

They were pretty solid- it was easy to hit an omega around the knees with one end, hard enough that they’d fall over. The other end went over the neck, pinning the person to the ground like you would a dog that wouldn’t stop biting.

Dean, who was in pain and seriously pissed off, shouted out “alright, jesus, I was just going to shower! What the hell?”

And then he found out that the crutch was electrified.

Sam’s hippy alpha friends were definitely going to be at least considered as an option.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dean. Wow, I totally didn't mean for that to be Gabriel....but thats the way it came out, he just shoved his way into this story with a much bigger role than I intended.   
> Thanks for reading, kudos make me cheer, comments make me happy cry! Constructive criticism is also welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to how Dean ended up at CRRO.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Yay!  
> Uh, so, really heed the rape/non con warning. This will be a constant theme in this story, and I won't be tagging specific acts/incidents, so be aware of that before reading any further. No non-con Dean/Cas though- at any point.

_2 days earlier_

*

When it hit 11pm, Dean was done.  

Actually, he’d been done around two hours earlier, but the beta girl behind the bar had had her top button undone. 

 When Dean had noticed and pointed it out, she had blushed salsa red and vanished through the swing door to the kitchen.  She returned with buttons done up and a beer for which she did not ask for payment.

So, Dean had stuck around, tolerating the crappy décor and ignoring the terrible music for as long as he could. But it was a Saturday- the bar filled up early.

 In a town this small, this place passed for a good hangout- the beer was cheap and the appetizers probably weren’t reheated from last night.  Half the adult population seemed to invade, armed with botox and hair grease and pick up lines they learnt from How I Met Your Mother.

Not exactly Deans type of place, and he had a motel booked with Garth, so he headed out.

He threw back the rest of his beer and left a big tip for the buttoned bartender, catching the adorable smile she threw his way.

The way to the exit was littered with hazards- chiefly Alphas with too much cologne.  Dean made a break for it anyway, and escaped with only one grope of his ass. The air outside felt good, a little muggy but much clearer than insid- no.

No, it wasn't. There was a smell in the air, getting more noticeable as Dean lifted his head and scented.

It was a smell Dean was very familiar with- the scent of a distressed Omega.

He followed it. He didn't have a choice. It was a scent that reminded Dean of a childs cry when they can’t see their parent , or the feeling when you miss a step, or when your car won’t start, or the sound of breaking bone, or maybe all of those things rolled into a big mass of _no, help, I’m not ok._

Not helping was not an option.

Dean turned the corner round to the alley to the back of the bar, and found it completely empty. The smell didn’t dissipate though, so he carried on round to behind the massive grimy dumpsters.

And there they were, audible, visible, a general assault to the senses.

Three Alphas surrounded an Omega female.

The woman was on her knees, one of the Alphas thick fingers in her hair, hairy knuckles gripping tight. Tears streaked black eyeliner down her mocha skin, and her mouth was being forced into by the Alphas cock.

The other two Alphas were pressed in close- each with one hand on their dick, and the other on the Omegas body. The scent of Alpha arousal- the stink of it- was heavy in the air.

As Dean took in the scene, the woman’s hand came up, pressing against the legs of the Alpha in her mouth. He could see her nail polish, and a ring with two small gems, and then his fist hit the side of the Alphas head and he didn’t see her anymore.

He knew she got away though. The cops traced her scent to an apartment. She didn’t want to give a statement.

*

Dean couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at her, even as he was dressed in white scrubs and admitted to CRRO.

If you scanned the code on his new non-removable bracelet, it showed his name, his new serial number, and the words

_Unmated_

_Dangerous_

_Force Authorised._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Kudos make me sing disney songs, comments make me pretend to have wings.  
> I will hopefully be updating pretty often- I have a chapter plan and everything.   
> ( follow me on tumblr? booflo62)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A baseball would make the room less boring. At least, it would make him feel more like he was in a cool film, and not in deep shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more Dean time, and a little bit more about how things work at CRRO. I hope you enjoy.

The room was boring.

Dean had had exactly 3 hours, 14 minutes and 18 seconds to decide this.

The little digital screen to the side of the door displayed the time, along with the words “Personal Reflection”.   Dean had personally decided that this room was the worst thing- no, the second worst thing- to ever happen to him.

The bed was hard, and the pillow had bleached out stains that he hadn’t wanted to examine closely. The tap provided cold water only. The cup sitting next to the sink had still been wrapped in plastic, as had the toothbrush, thank god.The floor was hard linoleum and had a pattern of white and black specks on grey. Beside the single bed, there was a nightstand with a light that had no way to turn off or on- apparently it was controlled by a switch outside the room, which was super convenient.  

On the nightstand was a book.  The title, printed in black letters on the otherwise bare dust jacket, was “Care For Me, Care For You:  An Guide to being a  Omega Role Model”. Dean had spent 24 minutes trying to find a way to dispose of the book, with frustratingly bad results.

He had not reached the boredom level required to actually read the damn thing.  He was sitting on the floor, back against one wall, facing another. He wished he had a baseball, and then started listing all the films where time was spent throwing baseballs at walls. 

At 3 hours, 47 minutes and 54 seconds, the words on the digital screen changed, with a little beeping sound that Dean didn’t really notice.  He didn’t realise that this sound would soon be his most hated sound in the world- overtaking Call Me Maybe, which he hadn’t thought was possible.

The screen now displayed the words  “ Mealtime”.

6 minutes later, Dean was escorted into the dining hall.  

Those 6 minutes were a taken up by passing through two security checks, each conducted by an unsmiling  guard carrying one of those shock sticks which Dean eyed with  slight morbid fascination.  After the checks, Dean and his new friend- a beta staff member who had terrible hair- were allowed onto the metal stairs that went down the centre of the building. Looking over the side, Dean could see a cafeteria that reminded him of high school, with long rectangular tables and benches fixed to the floor.

Dean clanked his way through the humid space, still accompanied by the Beta who was pointing out where to get food, and where to sit, but Dean wasn’t paying all that much attention.

He was distracted by the other residents- and god, did it blow to have to think of himself as a resident of this fucking place. It was the first time since he’d entered CRRO that he had seen anyone who was not an Alpha or Beta, and the first time anyone had looked at him with an emotion other than bland indifference or disgust.

Even without scenting them, it was easy to tell who the omegas were. The white uniforms, the wristbands, the godawful shoes. Some of them looked at him with pity, others with raised eyebrows ( _too fucking tall_ ).  One slender guy gave him a full ear to ear grin. Dean looked away, uncomfortable.

 He turned toward the food line, was given a plate with something brown and something carroty on it, and looked for a place to sit. Maybe he should have listened to the instructions his escort had given him.

 And then-

“Who do I have to kill to get some french fries around here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Ruby! Yay! I swear things'll pick up a bit with the pace/plot/action of this story soon. Sammy will get there soon. And oh yes, theres one other guy- super hot, messy black hair, eyes with the ocean inside? EG all the feels will start to happen. Anyway, please let me know what you think! Kudos make me wiggle my butt, comments make me want to dye my hair amazing colours.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel Novak is a therapist at CRRO. He is also an Alpha. Oh, and he is undercover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Castiel.

“Cas.”

Castiel Novak was being prodded.

“Wake up, smell the roses, go to work, bring bacon”.

“Bacon is bad for you.”

“Well then bring whatever alternative you’d prefer, hippy. Get your butt out of this apartment.”

The door closed behind Cassie as she stalked out of his bedroom, apparently satisfied that she had done enough to wake him up. Though the temptation to prove her wrong was very strong, Castiel knew that it was mostly to do with his reluctance to go to work than based around a desire to sleep.

He rolled onto his back with a huff of air. It seemed to sit in the air around him, rather than dissipating into the atmosphere like you would expect. Texas in late summer was a ridiculous place. The heat and humidity got into every little crevice of the apartment he was sharing with Cassie, and was a constant reminder that everything about this place was rejecting their presence.

He should have stayed in the comparably cooler and decidedly more welcoming Massachusetts.

At least CRRO had air conditioning throughout the whole building- arguably the one good thing the place had going for it.

With the thought of cold air in his head, Cas pushed himself to his feet. Despite her comments about bacon, Cassie would be waiting in the kitchen with his preferred breakfast of oatmeal and strong coffee. This routine they’d fallen in too was new to both of them- back in Mass, their relationship was based on mutual antagonism and tequila.  If they met at any one of the safe houses or briefings before a job, it was enough to nod heads and transfer notes.

But in Hells Rear End, as they referred to their temporary home, they were working together for the first time.  Castiel had the decidedly more difficult job, and although Cassie had not acknowledged this out loud, she had started making breakfast for him every day in what Cas assumed was her way of making his life easier. He was grateful. His job really truly sucked.

Who knew that a degree in psychology would get him no job whatsoever for the first decade after leaving college, but then turn out to be just what he needed to get him placed in the back of beyond in Texas?

The irony was too much for him. His family had been furious at 17 year old Castiel’s decision to go to college. His speeches about _wanting to help people in a way that isn’t illegal_ had been scoffed at. And when he did re-join them at age 27, no one had actually said _I told you so._ But they may as well have.

And now, it turned out that that little streak of defiance that teen Castiel had so carefully cultivated – he had gone to swim meets, and taken up the clarinet- was the thing that was needed for this job. Castiel had been able to apply and be accepted for a position as an omega therapist at CRRO.

He’d been working in one of the smallest branches in the US for 6 weeks.

Now, Cas shrugged into his white crew-neck under-shirt, and grabbed his neatly pressed pants from the top of his dresser. His hair, which historically he payed little to no attention to, was soon neatly combed.  He looked every part the Alpha therapist.

He hated it.

He padded through the hallway in his socks, skirting around the piles of papers that Cassie had organised into some system that involved coloured sticky notes at knee height along the walls above neat stacks of binders.  Her role was based around collating the direct information that was fed to her by the 3 workers that were placed in this particular CRRO. Whilst Cassie did have to sit in the muggy apartment all day, Cas envied her the freedom she had, and the fact she could pass through a door without having to scan a security card.

But they were partners, at least for now, and both of them wanted this mission to go smoothly. Neither of them lost sight of the fact that if they pulled this off thousands of lives would be saved. Neither of them forgot that their own lives were at risk, no matter the overall outcome. It really had the effect of focusing the mind.

He made it to the kitchen/living room, which was currently Cassie’s makeshift headquarters. Sure enough, on the small table sat hot oatmeal, honeybear to the side, travel coffee mug steaming.

Cassie was already at work, sitting on the floor of the small carpeted living area. Her laptop was to the side, and she had her tablet propped on a stand. Her own coffee mug was placed a safe distance away from the papers she was flipping through, and she barely glanced up as Castiel sat down at the formica topped table. He murmured his thanks and was acknowledged with a jerk of her black haired head.

He’d talk more with Cassie later- for all the crap she gave him about getting up, he was decidedly more of a morning person than she was.

Cas had finished breakfast, washed his dishes and had gathered his things together. He headed out the door, down the steps, and along to where their small Volvo was parked. 20 minutes  later, he smiled his ingratiating smile at the receptionist of CRRO,  and was accompanied along to his office.

Once there, he signed his laptop into the secure system online that CRRO maintained. A few new messages, his schedule for the day- and a notification that a new patient had been added to his register.

Castiel pulled up the secure patient profile of Dean Winchester.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed that! This fic will be updating more frequently from now on, I hope. But real life does get in the way. Thank you for your patience.   
> Kudos make me smirk, comments make me wear feather boas.  
> As always, constructive crit is welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow yes i'm still alive

The dark haired chick doesn’t get her fries. She gets a threatening cough from the metal gantry and a stare from one of the guards whilst he taps his stick baton thingy against his leg. 

Clearly she gets the message, and she turns to the dining floor with an aggravated sigh. 

Her eyes sweep the rows of bolted chairs and omegas talking in low voices, stopping at Dean’s still figure, large enough to stick out. Their eyes meet.

Dark meets green, and Dean doesn’t look away. He can tell already this is someone who is a troublemaker, even by the standards of CRRO, where every omega is a troublemaker. This isn’t someone he should associate with. His brief experience with CRRO and the weird culture its built within its walls- he already has a damn good read on it. Keep your head down, do as you’re told, read the bloody manual. This omega doesn’t look like she does any of that, and so Dean holds her gaze, quirking his eyebrow up in a slight challenge. Because why the hell not.

The dark chick lifts her chin and narrows her eyes. She looks like she wants to confront him, and Dean very deliberately smirks at her, turns his back, and sits down at a table. 

Oh yeah. This’ll be good. 

*

Cas has attended a group therapy session, a very dull staff meeting, and a guest lecture on the importance of dressing demurely- all by lunchtime. In the weeks he’d been at CRRO, he’d gotten used to, or at least had got better at pretending to tolerate, all of these soul draining activities. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Cassie gave him the spiel about it “being for the best”, and he was “doing good work”, and it would all be “worth it….” . He still left each day exhausted. 

The overzealous timetabling at CRRO also applied to the staff. The mornings were given to group sessions, lectures and the daily all-staff meeting. The inmates ( “these our guests, Dr Novak. Don’t refer to them as “inmates”. We are their hosts”) were herded around these sessions in groups that were checked through every doorway. The staff could at least move around independently, though every session had at least two staff at any time. Cas made it through the mornings by sheer willpower. 

Then lunch, during which staff could leave the building if they wanted to, provided they did all the security checks on the way out and back in. 

Cas rarely bothered. Leaving just meant having to come back again and he could only stomach that once a day. He’d rather suffer the abysmal coffee in the staff lounge than make that trip. He did feel guilty about the fact he was so brought down by the standard of the coffee- the omegas weren’t even allowed caffeine. He added it to the mental list of things that he felt guilty about in this situation. Honestly the coffee thing was pretty low down. 

He always found it a relief to get into his own office, small though it was. The afternoons at CRRO were for personal treatment, exercise, and self reflection. Which was a nice way of saying mental bullying, physical bullying, and self bullying. Still, it was easier than the mornings, at least for Castiel, and he was smart enough to not feel guilty about the fact. The afternoons were where he was actually doing something important, that might actually help people. 

As a Doctor, he dealt with individual omegas, in one-on-one sessions. In theory, he was supposed to be guiding them down the road to self acceptance. This really meant he was supposed to bend them to the thinking of CRRO and suppress their natural personalities. 

Cas didn’t do that. He couldn’t, of course, tell them who he really was or why he was working at this heinous organisation. He could, however, try and help them in whatever way he could, whilst still maintaining his cover. This was a narrow line to walk- sometimes he felt totally useless. But for the most part, the omegas in the Centre were so desperate for a break or some simple kindness that they’d accept whatever Cas said, as long as he wasn’t hurting them physically or mentally. Mostly he just tried to give them some sort of outlet to talk about the rest of the treatment. He’d use the excuse of “ I need to see where you’re at with the treatment, so tell me your real thoughts” and just let them blow off steam for 50 minutes. He’d offer some bullshit about the manual, but never pressed it. 

It seemed to be working. His cover hadn’t been blown, in any case, and Cassie’s guy in the admin department said that Cas’s reports were solid. So that was some relief.

He tried to remind himself of this fact as he leaned over his desk, door closing behind the “guest” who’d just spent 45 of the 50 minutes crying about the previous day’s lecture in pup care. She’d had two pups in the past, and both had been taken by the Alpha who had claimed her. She hadn’t seen them in years. It broke Cas’s heart as he stared at her, brown hair all round her face. He wanted to tear down walls, and all he could do was offer her a tissue and tell her that she shouldn’t be so distressed.

He rubbed his eyes after she left, shrugging out of his suit jacket and dumping it over his chair. He collected the tissues she’d left crumpled on the desk, placing them in his trash can. Only two more sessions to get through today and he could get out of here, this place that stank of misery and stress. He was good at controlling his emotions and therefore his scent, and he wore Alpha blockers, so he was reasonably sure he wasn’t contributing too much to the cocktail of olfactory sensation, but he really had had enough that day. He’d find a way to get Lucille out of that class if he could. Maybe reschedule her appointment times so she could miss part of it...

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Time for his next session. He hurried to stand by his desk, and called “Enter”.

The door opened to reveal one of the nurses, who smiled blandly before ushering her companion- or rather, her charge- inside the office. 

The omega was tall, blonde -ish, and had the most challenging gaze Cas had ever seen. This was Dean Winchester. A new inmate, obviously, still being accompanied wherever he went. Cas had meant to read his file, but Lucille’s distress had thrown him and he’d run out of time. 

“Dr Novak, this is omega Dean. He’s a level C4. Omega, this is Dr Novak. He will be your personal adviser. Behave well, please”, said the nurse. 

The last phrase made Castiel shudder a little in his skin. They said it to everyone. “ Behave well, please”. Jesus, it made the nurses sound like robots. If he didn’t know that Kira went home to her toddler and husband each day, he’d be tempted to see if there was anyone actually behind the polite phrases and bland scrubs, or if she was just a metal shell programmed to act a certain way. 

The omega raised an eyebrow. He was tall, Castiel saw. He was pretty sure he’d already noticed that, but it something about him was making Cas reevaluate as he smiled, tight lipped, and gestured the omega to a chair. 

“Hello, Dean”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> may update this again soon but please don't get too invested I'm not making any promises here  
> That being said, thanks for reading! Kudos are excellent, comments make me do the hula in drag   
> constructive crit is welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short starter chapter  
> Please tell me if you want me to keep going! Kudos make me cheer, comments make me happy cry.  
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
